Genesis
by Billy Tom Plummer Ledger
Summary: A really shitty story about Blue Bloods. I wrote it from my own characters point of view that is not in the original Blue Bloods, she is Schuyler's sister and the second daughter of Allegra and this is what I think should happen w/ the Blue Bloods
1. Chapter 1

Blue Bloods: Genesis

I'm at the Bank for the fifth night in a row this week. Schuyler is all in the corner with her boyfriend/conduit Oliver Perry-Hazard. I admit it, he's cute. Tall, nice blonde hair and gorgeous green eyes. And he obviously loves her as much as she loves him. I take another sip of my drink and walk further through the crowd so I don't lose them. Mimi Force won't let her eyes off Schuyler tonight. Why won't she just leave her alone? She already has Jack hanging on her every word again.

Sometimes I just want to grab Schuyler on the arm and say to her Surprise! I'm your long lost sister and I want you to meet your long lost father. If only… No, no I can't. Schuyler and Oliver are about to walk into the basement and I'm ready to start hovering as a cold breeze or a sudden gust of wind when my cell phone beeps. I take out the sidekick and read the message. It's from Isabel – Come. Now. Oh great. Could she give me any more information? I steal one quick glance back to Schuyler but she's already left with Oliver.

I take a cab back to my loft where all of the Revolutionaries are. There are about thirty of us now or thirty eight to be exact. A few in Chicago, France, Boston, and of course, Manhattan. We have about five with us in Manhattan now. In our loft there are paintings done by father himself. I open our fridge and take out a carton of milk and look around our loft. On the couch are my friends Isabel Wallace, the brooding and beautiful girl who ever wants to look like. Her dark hair naturally curly and wide brown eyes. Beside her is someone who I don't recognize.

She's about five four and her skin is a rough caramel color. I guess she is Indian or something like that. Her hair is dark and long to her waist. There is an IV up along her arm. I don't know the science of it – or more I don't understand the science of it but I understand the basics. We are draining her red blood cell count and replacing them with blue bloods. We don't just pick up people off the street and say, hey you want to become immortal? No, we only choose ones that don't have much time to live with.

Yeah, she's dying. I'm the only one here who is a born blue blood. Just not a natural one. My mother, Allegra Van Alen has been in a coma for all of my life and Schuylers. I have never met her before. My father, Stephen Chase is my best friend. He motions for me to go the back room. I do and at first I see Dylan with his scruffy long hair and sickly pale skin. His chest wound is healing and we are transfusing blood into him.

Where do we get this much blood? I have no idea. Next to him is a wrinkly and frailing old man – on the outside. He's name is Lawrence Van Alen, my supposed grandfather. He and Schuyler are really close but once Charles Force ripped her out from underneath him everything went to hell. Schuyler and Jack formed, Lawrence almost died if not for us.


	2. Chapter 2

"Hey Laurie," I say to him as I check his blood level. "You're almost ready to leave. You and your friend Dylan here." I touch his arm gently and for a minute his eyes begin to flutter. "Laurie?" I ask him of the nickname I gave him. He moans lightly and I jump up.

His eyes open. He stares at me with an open mouth.

"Schuyler?" He asks in shock. What do I do? Lie and cheat him out of the truth or tell him the truth and have a lot of explaining to do.

"Uh, you need to rest Lawrence," I tell him as soothingly I can. It comes out more awkward and jagged though.

"Schuyler…" He moans again.

"What's wrong? Are you hurting?" I ask him as I step closer.

"Just… I thought I was dead."

"You almost were," I regret the words immediately as I said them. Oh, hell. "Look, Lawrence. Can you do me a favor?"

"Schuyler, we don't have time for favors."

"Make time then," I argued. Lawrence nodded weakly. "Okay, the thing is, and please don't get freaked out or scared but I'm not Schuyler. I know we look a lot alike but that is common with twins. And I've been living with Stephen for the past fifteen, almost sixteen years of my life. We've been creating bluebloods, see, if you do it by transfusion. A blood transfusion and it completely inoculates all the red blood cells! And it's not like we do this to everyone. Just dying people. People who want another choice," I take a deep breath after a while. I always talk too fast when I'm agitated. Lawrence's hand cups over mine in a paternal warmth.

"You forgot to tell me your name," he noted.

Smiling I respond, "India or Indie. Whatever you want to call me. Idiot works just as well," he smiles too now.

"You and Schuyler… oh, how identical you two are! The spitting image of Allegra."

"I wouldn't know, the only picture I have of her was when when she was sixteen was, she gave it to Stephen in a box she left for him." A sudden glint of light glowed in his old brown eyes.

"Do you still have the box? Everything that was in it?" He pursued.

"Uh, yeah, I think so," I flustered.

"Would you mind bringing it to me? Please, a dying mans wish."

"You're not dying," I smirk.

"A guy has to try." My cell phone beeped at the moment and I let go of our embrace and looked at it. Sure enough it was Isabel saying Where r u? Meet me in our room. Sighing I prepared for a goodbye.

"I have to go check on something; do you need anything to drink?" Anything of the variety.

Lawrence shook his head violently to tell me no.

"Just the box," he insisted.

"Okay, but it's going to be a while before I can get it."

"Take your time; I don't think I'll be released from the bed anytime soon."

"Well, some people do think you're still dead." Smiling I got up and left. In our room was Isabel. Isabel was like a sister to me. She was a year older, taller and more beautiful than anyone I know. Her dark hair long and wavy and her features perfectly laid out for all to adore. She's Native American and no one can mistake her for anything else. She can wear a pair of Gap low rise boot cut jeans and a gray sweater with hearts around the loft and look like a model ready to be photographed.

I, on the other hand, looked a drowned cat. My hair isnt exactly long and beautiful but short and jagged. It lengthens to my shoulders and I haven't grown it out to how long Schuyler has – well, ever. I am dressed in a gray long sleeve shirt that has NEW YORK written across the top and my own Gap jeans and that are soaking through. I take my blanket throw and wrap it around myself as I sit on my bed.

"What?" I ask of her.

"I got us dates – for tonight."

"Dates? The end of the world may rise any second now and you want me to go out on a date?"

"Not just you, me too. And they aren't just any dates but Blue Blood dates. See, the plan is to get close to them, and then figure out how to get close Schuyler. We'll break the news to her evenly and see if we can resurrect Allegra. Or you can. And we can have some fun," Oh. My. God. If this is my closest thing to a best friend please, oh Lord, kill me now. "Now, go take a shower and I'll pick out your outfit." Groaning I do what I am told and surrender under the hot water. My shower takes up to ten or less minutes long and then I speedily brush my teeth, wash my face and brush my hair. Coming out in a towel Isabel isnt in our room but an outfit does lie on my bed.

A v-neck shirt that is a blinding orange color with weird floral designs on only one side and jeans that are too long to fit on me. I sometimes wonder whether she remembers who I am or just makes up her own friend in her head. Walking to our closet I pick out a pair of jeans and a bright pink shirt that has a picture of a slice of cheese and a cracker with the phrase Homies For Life on it. I get dressed quickly, grab my purse and put in it a taser, an athame, and pepper spray for protection later. Okay, they aren't a big help but they'll help a little bit.

Walking out into the loft I notice automatically that everyone left. My dad is the only one in the room and he is reading the paper and looks comfy in a pair of jeans and a hoodie. He eyes me up as I walk past him and grab my coat.

"I thought you were going on a date."

"I am," I responded as I walked out. On the door is a note saying that Isabel already left and that if I didn't dress in what she wanted me too then I was going to die a painful death. I crumpled it up and threw it into the trash can. I walk right into a cab and past a security guard at The Bank. Inside the place couldn't be more crowded, or so I think. In the past fifteen years I've lived in Boston, Chicago, L.A., and now Manhattan and not once did I step into a club. No one has to look to hard to find Isabel, she is with our other friend Cass.

Cass is another made Blue Blood by us. She was dying of leukemia but now she is living like hell. Her golden hair shining like a sun on a midsummer's day and her eyes as blue as the clear sky on that day. She couldn't look more like a slut in her halter top that doesn't go any longer than the belly button and her tight leather pants. Shaking my head I lean on the cushion of the very comfy couch that an involved couple has taken to and a geek who is trying to flirt with a beauty.

I start to doze off as I watch everyone around me having fun. It's only two in the morning and I bet that Schuyler is in her warm and cozy bed at her own personal hell – The Forces town house. And a huge town house at that.

"Hey!" I heard someone yell in my direction. My head got a little comfortable on the soft red cushion. "India?" I hear someone ask who is closer. Looking up I see a complete stranger sitting by me looking scarily concerned.


	3. Chapter 3

"Are you… are you sick or something?"

"No, I'm not sick." I told him. "Who are you?"

"Tate Mitchell," he sticks out his hand and surprisingly, I take it. He smiles and I notice exactly how handsome or _hot_ he is. Chocolate brown hair that falls in front of his eyes and nice light green eyes. His lips are so full and pale pink against his icily white skin. It was like he was an archangel sent from heaven. And that face of his… it was a child's face, with the big round eyes, long cheekbones and nose.

"India Chase," I told him as he kept his hold on my hand. He doesn't let go so I keep on talking, "I'm fifteen, homeschooled, and I read too much Agatha Christie."

"Oh, well, I read too much Kurt Vonnegut which I hear makes me too serious for my own good," I shrug my shoulders and smile at him as he lets go. "Well, I'm seventeen, I go to a public – private school called Duchesne but you probably call it Dorkenese."

"Why would I say that?" I say as I flutter my eyelids at him.

"Because you look… I don't know the word, mellow, less uptight. As if you don't have large stick up your ass," I laugh easily with him. "Yeah, everyone there looks like that."

"Are you?"

"No, at least I like to think so." I see his eyes divert elsewhere and I look to where his eyes wander. By the bar is a guy about medium height with ash blonde hair and black highlights in it. All I can see is the back of his shirt and those tight jeans that make his ass look scrumcious. "That's my friend, Asher Ver Franklin, or Asher Ver Frankenstein as people at our school call him."

"You aren't well liked," I guess.

"No, we are. I mean, we're rich enough to have people like us," he takes a sip of a drink I don't recognize and continues. "What's it like being homeschooled?"

"Insane. My dad's a little off edge. He's an artist and he likes to teach me techniques, take me to museums, I do a lot of correspondence stuff. There's really no choice but to do the homework. You get like a few days work and then send it in at the end of the week. It's pretty sweet, and I get to sleep in more often." We continue on talking and talking. He tells me about his little sister, how uptight his parents are and I tell him how carefree my dad is. Sometimes. When he isnt busy being a powerful blue blood on the run and down low. I don't remember ever talking this much, to anyone. Ever.

And then he leans in a little bit further, I can feel his breath on my face. His hand runs through my hair a few times and…

"I have to go," I mutter as I run out of there. Running so fast I couldn't look back if I wanted to. And I don't want to. As I tip toe into my bedroom at the loft I notice my dad's canvas. I make my way over to it and look at it for a while. It's me, and Schuyler. We really do look a lot like, same blue-black hair, bright blue eyes, and naturally pale skin. Oh crap, what if Tate goes to school tomorrow and sees Schuyler and thinks it is me? Oh crap. I take a quick shower and wrap an old silk robe around myself as I take some hair dye out of a certain bag. I have three sprays in temporary hair dyes, turquoise, the color of my eyes, dark fuchsia, black, and one permanent one that is the color of blood.

I wrap a towel around my head as I sleep so it won't go everywhere. When I wake up in the morning the color is so dark and so bright it almost looks natural. Almost. Running my fingers through it feels like strumming silk. I take a shower which makes the color bleed everywhere but it still stays in. I get dressed and look around for my bag. My bag… my bag, where are you?

"Oh my fucking god!" Isabel screams. "What – Why? Why would you do that?"

"So I won't get noticed as Schuyler Van Alen."

"There are wigs, you know," she comments.

"I don't like pins sticking in my head, ugh! Hey, do you know where my bag is?"

"Didn't you take it with you last night?" Oh crap, crap, crap, crap, crap. Oh fuck fuckity crap. I take a long sigh and grab my jacket. "Where are you going?" Isabel asks.

"Out," is all I tell her. On my way out my dad catches me as he sits at the counter eating some cereal with blood, drinking coffee and reading the paper. He whistles at me.

"Hey! I like the new hair color. Come over here and give your dad a hug." I follow his orders and give him a tight hug and kiss on the cheek. I also take a bite of his cereal and blood. It's warm. I stare at the fridge and he notices my new thought. "Don't worry about it, we have enough." His hand rubs my back and he kisses me again. "Why don't you go out? Take a breather." I don't speak again as I leave the apartment. I check The Bank but it's not where I remember it, I ask the owner and he shows me the lost and found. A few condoms, lost keys, lock of hair…

"It's not there," I tell him. He is about five eleven or so and he has a brown colored skin that tells you he is half black and short, spiked up black hair.

"Then it got jacked. Did you talk to anyone last night that you didn't know?" I think about Tate immediately. "See, that's where all of the good stuff goes." He adds as he picks up the lock of hair. "Freaks," he mutters under his breath. I get out of there quickly and get a cab even faster.

"Duchesne," I tell him. He looks me up and down as he takes in my plaid jacket, Tripp black pants, black eye shadow and red eyeliner.

"A' right," he says. I lean back in the seat and start to wonder. Maybe I shouldn't have dyed my hair, because how else is he going to remember me? That kleptomaniac ass wipes. I put on my headphones as he drives and listen to the sweet symphony of Iron & Wine as I start to think of pulling out a book from my bag. Oh no, I can't. Because that kleptomaniac jackass took it. Screw him.

Here's what I have in that bag, three books, my cell phone, my camera, and Schuylers schedule for the rest of the week. Oh yeah, I'm screwed.

"We're here," the cab driver yells back to me. I throw him a twenty and get out. Don't complain, I think. Don't make a scene, I tell him once again in my head as I look straight into his small brown eyes. Lifeless and boring brown eyes. I walk into the school with no problem; it's just how I am supposed to find the wipe that is a problem. Oh crap, crap, crap, crap. Then I see a familiar face to my eyes. Jack Force. Okay, the guy is a sick and selfish bastard at best but who doesn't the guy know? I make my way over and start yelling at him.

"Hey, Blondie with green eyes?" I wave at him as he looks up to me. "Can you help me?" I ask with absolutely no sincerity. He doesn't answer for a while but just stares at me. Actually, he stares directly into my eyes. "Ugh," I sigh. "Look, the thing is… I'm new, I just moved in last night and I'm checking out the school. I'm not registered or anything, I'm just looking for someone."

"Okay," he says uneasily.

"Look, I'm not going to bite," and he smiles at the irony – on his side. "I'm looking for Tate Mitchell."

"Tate? He's cool, you picked a good friend."

"I did," I thought he said everyone here were so uptight with sticks up their asses.

"Yeah, he's a good buddy, plays lacrosse with me." My eyes bulge wide as I realize the horrid truth. Tate Mitchell = Blue Blood. Surprise India. "We have practice right now, you can walk with me."

"Sure," I say with my teeth clenched. "That'd be cool," I add for something to say. We walk in silence to the lacrosse field and there is about ten or twelve guys there. I am guessing over half of them are Blue Bloods. "Klepto," I mutter under my breath as I recognize Tate. He is taller than I thought, about six foot but then everyone is taller than me. I'm five four and a rebel. Watch out assholes and ass kissers.

"Hey Tate!" Jack yells over all the others. Tate's green eyes immediately fire towards Jack and then move toward mine. He smiles warmly and runs over as Jack walks on.

"Hey," he breathes.

"Hiya," I say as I try to look away. He is hotter than I remembered.

"Nice hair," he comments as I blush as deep as the color.

"I found something of yours," oh, he found it. "You left it under the table as you dashed out, come on." I followed him unwillingly into the hall way as he led me to his locker.

"Why didn't you just put in lost and found?" I asked him.

"Ugh, lost and found at The Bank is for losers." He handed me my bag and I checked it quickly to see if everything was in there. Yeah, it was. "So, what were you with Jack for?" He asked with a hint of jealousy in the voice.

"He was just…" Why do I have to explain this to him? Him, of all people. "Flirting endlessly with me and asking me to marry him," I joke.

"Oh, so I guess there goes The Met."

"What?" I asked him in a more than intrigued voice.

"I was going to see if you would go with me. It's nothing," he slammed the locker door and looked away. He started to walk back to practice but I grabbed him on the arm. Oh, what are you doing India?

"I want to go," I said and immediately regretted it. "But I can't, tough laws under Stephen Chase."

"Oh, okay. Do you have a number I can call you at?" His light green eyes pleaded with me.

"Yeah, I have a number," I said as I pulled out a pad of paper, flipping over Schuyler's schedule and all possible Silver Bloods that would want to attack her to a fresh page. I wrote it down and ripped it out for him.

"Thanks," he said as he took the pad out of my hands and started to write down something himself. I looked back down at it but it wasn't a number.

**310 East 46th Street – eleven at night**

"This isnt a phone number," I told him.

"Hmm," he teased as he peered over my shoulder. "Oh, it isnt, is it?" He started to add to the page.

**Wear something nice**

"I'm not going to a party."

"Oh, you aren't, you are going as my date," his hand cupped my chin and he brought his lips down to my level as he gently pressed them against mine. His tongue circled mine a few times and his hands glide over my throat, my neck. I pulled him away as the fear of him biting roared within my veins.

"I'll be there as a possibility," and I left him there to watch me walk away. I can't get close to _him_; he is just after my blood. My body has nothing to do with it. When I round the corner I see Schuyler and Oliver at her locker in the same position I was before. Both of them kissing and holding their hands as their fingers intertwine. They look so perfect in each other's arms, as if they made for each other. Schuyler has it easy, and she doesn't even know it.

Out of the corner of my eye I noticed Mimi Force coming about. Uh oh, here comes the bitch.

"Uh, excuse me?" I ask her out of desperateness. "I don't mean to bother you –"

"You are," she says coldly as she tries to push past me. I push her back.

"I know," I mock her. "Look here bitch, just turn around and don't make me hurt you."

"You could try, because I bite." She smiled widely for my effect.

"So do I, Abbadon, so I'll make this good and quick. You ever hurt Schuyler Van Alen and I will personally drain every ounce of your blue blood." Her eyes went wide for a split second and then became hard.

"Who are you?"

"Someone who isnt going to let you shit all over them," I looked back and saw that Schuyler was there alone now. "Goodbye angel," I said as I pushed her again. Man, did that feel good, as good as kissing Tate.


	4. Chapter 4

When I get home, dad is eating cereal and painting.

"That's healthy," I comment as I walk past him. I look back at the painting and notice it is from a photo he has. A photo of Allegra and him at their wedding. In a church! So many Blue Bloods left disgusted, astonished, and most of all, pissed. The beautiful and pure Gabrielle. "She looks really pretty."

"She is, you get that from her. Your brains, your strength and power – it's all from her." I can hear the sadness under his voice take place in his eyes.

"I don't know, my taste in music, books, what I like to do with my free time, I think I get it all from my dad," I try to lighten up the mood.

He turns my way and smiles as he wraps me up in a big hug.

"I love you, always know that little darling."

"I love you too, never repeat that to _anyone_," I reply as I break free. In my bedroom I acknowledge the time and take a shower and start doing some math homework. A pretty good distraction.

"Homework? Ugh, gag me." Isabel mocks as she enters the room.

"Gladly," I look up and see her shrug off her leather jacket. Behind her is our friend Zach Griffin. In his usual straight dark jeans, black t-shirt that has the words BITE ME written on it in blood red letters that look paint splattered. "Hey Griffin," I sing out to him.

"Hey Chase," he sings back. "How's it going?"

"Got invited to a party as a date to a Blue Blood, pissed of a dark angel and I mastered the Pythagorean Theorem."

"What – wait? Hold on for a minute," Isabel says as she stops spinning in her desk chair. "You got asked out on a date?!" She squealed. I rolled my eyes and Zach started laughing. Zach is actually quite cute when he laughs, his shaggy dark blonde hair falls in front of his eyes and his dark green eyes glow. "Oh. My. God! Who is he? Is he that super cute guy you were talking to last night?" She asks as she crawls over our beds to me.

"Uh, I don't really know him that well…" I admit.

"Oh, who cares? He asked _you_ out," she insulted. "I mean, no offense," she added.

"Thanks," I said coldly with no apology. "And some taken," I add to her last remark. I pull out the paper from my jean pocket and show it to them.

"We're going!" Isabel jumped up with enthusiasm. "To a party! Goddammit I cannot believe it! Oh my god!" She danced around the room with a new sense of joy about her. Then she grabbed my arm and pulled me into our closet. "Okay, let's dress you!"

"Oh, uh, you don't have to-"

"Don't be silly!" She exclaimed as she started her magic. She dressed me in a flapper like shirt with the beads hanging down, Gap jeans, and a pair of boots with fringe on the back. She curls my hair and teases me about the color. She, herself, gets dressed in a faded purple jumper and black tights. When we meet Zach he is still in the same clothes and so is Rod. Rod, the hot stuff that I want to maul. He's been with us for a while now, and I've liked him ever since. Not anything serious, just the attraction.

It's pretty obvious too. His dark brown skin looks good under his bomber jacket and Henley. His hair is black and eyes are a dark blue.

"Hey India, what are you staring at?"

"Only your beauty," I respond with confidence.

"You're cocky," or that. The ride to Tate's has to be the longest I have ever endured. When we enter his pent house the place is overly crowded for us to realize its beauty. I lose Isabel within seconds and Zach and Rod have followed a group of giggling girls to their boyfriends. I move around the room, steal a package of smokes from a stranger, drink a few drinks and look for Tate. Instead Jack Force finds me and starts talking or flirting with me. Whatever you like to call it.

Flirting back for about the millionth time his hand goes on the lower level of my back and then Tate comes.

"Well, well, stealing my girl, are we Jack?" Tate interrupted and I was praising the heavens for him at that moment. "Come on India," he told me as he grabbed my arm. I let go of him harshly and his eyes looked shocked at my strength.

"What? Girls can't do pushups?" I teased him. "Thanks for that," I say in a smaller voice. "Jack is a real asshole; I heard that isnt even his real name."

"No, but does Benjamin really suit him?"

"No, Azreal seems more like it," I slip. "But then he doesn't seem _that _bad. Just an annoyance."

"Trust me, he is that bad." His voice rang with sincerity in every word.

"Liar," I scoff at him. Taking a seat on a couch where he sat with me. For a while we just sat there in silence but then he started asking me questions. Random questions with no meaning like liquorish or twizzlers, romance or mystery? He asked me whether I preferred to laugh or cry, and I said to cry. My favorite flowers? What I did with my time, and some true or false questions.

"Skinny Dipping?"

"Hell no," I respond after sex games, affairs, broken promises, and good kisser?

"It's supposed to be a true or false answer," he scolds me as I blush. Smiling, I look away.

"True," I admit. Then I look up and get the faintest glimpse of a gypsy. Holding onto the image I see someone, the size of a fairy wearing a long sleeved black dress down to her knees. A silky, colorful, light purple and light blue shiny jacket covering the black dress and gray and black tights under the dress with black ballet shoes on. Her hair was the same shade mine is… or was. It was Schuyler. But where was Oliver? I didn't have to look long before I saw Jack coming towards her. "Ugh, I have to go," I told him.

"Always leaving," he noted as he touched my hair.

"Don't touch me," I said as I fringed away. His eyes look surprised and almost hurt as I spoke the words. "Look, I really like you Tate," I tried to explain as I kept my eye on Schuyler. "But the thing is, I don't have a life. I won't ever have a life and so you might want to just stop trying, because it won't work." As Schuyler began to leave I jumped up and started running after her. In the hallway she started working the way towards Jack and Mimi and I could see her clutching an envelope in her hands. A maid was coming out of a pitch black room and I kept the door open as I grabbed onto her arm. Pushing her in I pressed her small body against the wall and flicked on the light as the door closed. I did it so fast Mimi and Jack and no single minded person would notice.

One hand cupped her mouth and the other one held firm on her arm. As I released the hand around her mouth I spoke.

"What the hell are you doing?" I whispered to her, pronouncing each word carefully. Like the candle scene in Young Frankenstein.

"Who-Who are you?" She stammered as her eyes went wild and her heart beat almost shot through her skin.

"Someone who cares, and can put a few things together. Like you sleeping with Jackass Force, and you coming to a party without Oliver and holding an envelope with a weird shape in it that matches a generic pregnancy test. Oh, and yeah, I was with you when you took it." I remember it all too clearly. About a week ago, she was grocery shopping, getting Ben and Jerry's, some lettuce, fruit and a few bottles of water with oh, yeah, and a little tube to pee on. "Please, dear God and Satan tell me you are not pregnant with Jack Forces child."

"I don't know, I didn't think I could get –"

"You can. You are only half blue blood but your child will probably be fully blue blood or something." I pointed out. I could see her eyes starting to well and could hear her heart beating slow. "Ugh, look, don't be scared, please, trust me, I'm more like you than any other person here." Definitely. "Just go home, don't tell Jack, don't tell _anyone_ unless you want it to get killed." I opened the door and adjusted my eyes to the bright lighted corridor outside. "Just go," I told her and she did with a glance back to me.

"Thanks, I don't know why, but I want to say thanks." I try to hide the smile under my skin but a little bit slips out and she smiles back. I did something for my sister. My sister likes me. Whoa. That is _so _cool. I feel like singing, anything, What Is This from The Nightmare Before Christmas or Shake It by Metro Station. When I get home, its dark, as usual. All the lights are off and immediately I go check on Lawrence and Dylan. Turning on the light, I notice it.

They aren't there. The beds are messed up and I can see where they cut the IVs. I go into their bathroom and spring open the curtain. Mark Reynolds is tied up with the IV cord and duck tape on his mouth. I pull the duck tape off and he screams in pain.

"Where did they go?" I command of him. He whimpers out of pain and starts to cry. He was on patrol? "Where did they go asshole?" I ask again.

"It hurts," is all he can moan out. I get up off my knees and start walking out. "Hey, you're going to get me out of here, right?" I ignore his request and grab a few knives from the kitchen before heading out. I go to the Bank and then to the basement down stairs. In the elevator I get a good look at myself in the mirror. My hair – the dyed red is now turning blue black by the second. Oh crap.


	5. Chapter 5

**The end, the really shitty and crappy end, but it lets you sort of see where its going - I tried my best so please dont be mean**

When the elevator opens, Charles Force is standing there with his daughter, Mimi.

"Well, that was easy," I say in my most evil and manipulative voice. They both look up at me, or down if you consider my size. Mimi's eyes show recognition but Charles just sees an angst teenager. "Hello _Michael_," I spit out and fly at him. Holding him against a wall I put the dagger to his throat. "Want your trust fund early, Abbadon?" I ask Mimi. Out of the corner of my eye I can see her eyes glowing with excitement. I dig the knife into his skin. "Where is my father?"

"You don't have one, Schuyler, he died many years ago. You know that."

"Like hell he did." I press harder with the knife but then Mimi comes at me from behind. I jump from Charles and slit both of her wrists as I do. Then a sharp pain attacks my neck and as the pain dulls, the darkness comes

My eyelids flutter open groggily. I don't want to wake up but I don't want to go back to sleep. Rolling on my side I close my eyes shut as I try to remember what happened before. Opening my eyes, I notice a figure before me. He's somewhat short, no he is just sitting down. He has chocolate brown hair that falls in front of his nice eyes that is a color I can't make out right now.

"Dylan?" I call out in confusion. The last time I saw him he was unconscious, pale and close to death. Now, he is smirking, looking alive and well and very much mocking me.

"Hello, kidnapper."

"Oh, you don't have any hard feelings about that. If it wasn't for us, you would be dead." I said as I roll onto my back.

"True," he responds. "So… why did you do it?" I turn my head to look at him disbelief.

"You're the only one who knows who the Silver Blood is, we need you."

"Yeah, but, how did you do it?"

"We had spies on your little trip to Brazil, and they stayed low key but they didn't see anything too important. They helped transfer you guys here where we did this surgery thingy to get all of the big bad Silver Blood inside of you. After that we just stole blood banks from the hospital to feed you. Through the IVs."

"Whoa…" he says. That's all he says.

"Are you going to let me out of here?" I ask after a while. He doesn't say anything but just stands up and walks out. Leaving the door open. I walk out easily and notice a whole lot of Blue Bloods here. "Holy shit," I say and then I spot him. Dad. He's talking with Lawrence and a few other well known Blue Bloods I don't know. I run over to him and he hears me. Smiling, he hugs me back once I jump onto him.

"Oh, I was so worried!" I scream as my arms wrap themselves around his neck.

"Schuyler, contain yourself." Lawrence told me.

"Laurie…" I begin.

"Do not play that act of yours. Stephen her told us everything – how you two met online a few months ago and how you've been spending father daughter time and how you _knew nothing _about his proceedings." Lawrence explained. I looked back at my father and his eyes told me a secret language no one else could read. _Believe. Trust Me. _

He was covering for me. Because _I _screwed up. I held onto tight to his hands and didn't ever want to let go.

"Dad –" I started but didn't have the time to finish.

"Don't, okay," Stephen said as he held up my chin like he always does when I'm about to cry. "I love you, meus fillia." He held me tight against him in a quick hug. "I'll leave now – please don't hold this over Schuyler's head and don't mention this _mistake _ever again." He said with a supreme heart as he told me telepathically that he had a plan. "You won't ever see me again," _meet me in the car in five minutes stat _he ordered me in the fatherly way in my head. He let go of me and left me there.

"He was never good enough for you, or your mother." Lawrence told me.

"He was everything my mother needed and everything _I _need. He's my father. No one can replace him – especially not Charles Force." I tell him in my most fierce voice. Behind me the door creaks open. I look over my shoulder to see who is coming in – oh shit. It's Monday. Within the crowd I notice Tate, Jack and Mimi Force, some guy I know as Jacks friend, Bliss, Oliver and… Schuyler. "You know, I might need a little fuel power before the meeting," I lie to Lawrence as I keep my gaze over my shoulder. "I'll see you around," I tell him and try to get past him.

It doesn't work.

"Schuyler, we need to talk. I need to ask you about this… India you've conjured up in that head of yours. I know you feel alone and very lonely with only Charles and the twins as your companions. And with Oliver not around so much…" I don't say anything I just push myself out of his hold. "Schuyler, please, let's talks about this."

"I-I can't." I told him and worriedly looked over my shoulder. Lawrence reached out to hold onto my arm but I shrugged him off. "Leave me alone!" I hiss at him. If I can't get out here safely… "I don't want your pity - you lost me in court so stop trying to win me back already!" My voice rises a little louder than I wanted to but I run off before anybody can give me weird looks. Lawrence runs after me and catches me by the arm. I try to untangle myself out of his hold but for an old guy… he is **strong**.

"Let me go!" I yell repeatedly at him as I mentally yell at Stephen – _sorry, sorry, I am soooo sorry_ _but HELP!_ I look around and see Stephen running towards me ready to fight with the look of a pissed off papa bear. I hit Lawrence in the gut with my free hand and try to run away. Stephen pushes me away out of the fight and takes a punch for me. Or maybe it was intended for him. A few Blue Bloods walk out of the school at the right time to see me act like a complete idiot.

Stephen doesn't move. He doesn't get up from the ground and I can see Blue Blood spilling from his head. The logical side of me knows he can't die and won't leave me like this but my emotional side breaks free.

"Dad?" I whimper. I kneel beside him and brush his hair from his face. He looks so pale and feels like rubber because he won't move voluntarily. "Daddy it's me… It's India. It's your daughter." I tell him as the tears start to spill out. "Daddy…" I mutter again as I hold onto his hand tighter as the blood flows freely. Someone comes and carries him off and I sit in the back seat with him – always holding his hand as we drive to the Blue Blood clinic. Some doctor whose name I don't get at first takes him in. She doesn't give me a weird look as I crawl into the fetus position next to him.

I don't hear it at first when someone comes in his room. I assume it's the doctor… Pat? Matt? Cat?

A sigh escapes from the lips of this someone and it sounds soft and sweet. As if it came from a soft and sweet person. I hear the ruffle of a few breathes and the movement of a hand in smooth hair before the words utter themselves out of her mouth.

"No one told me I-I had a sis-sister." Schuyler says. I look up and see that familiar face for another time in my life.

"Funny – it was one of the first my father told me." I tell her in what I want to be a warm way. I motion for her to come over and she does after a moment of hesitation. I take her hands and keep my hold on one of hers and place her other equally small hand into Stephen's hand. "Allegra made him into a Silver Blood when she tried to change him into a Blue Blood. She fixed it though," I told her as I looked her in those blue eyes we shared. "She drank the Silver Blood out of his system. If a Silver Blood is willing – you can replace its soul."

"Really?"

"Yes, only Gabrielle and Michael can do that – and now, us." I tell her and notice the small smile that forms on her angelic face. "You know why my dad chose now to move us here?" Schuyler shakes her head. "Because he found out in some old myth – well, a somewhat legit Blue Blood myth that the power of two – well born archangels – can ressurect the dead. Maybe if we just minimize that power… we could bring Allegra back," I tell her with a smile. She doesn't smile.

"I don't even know the first thing about you." She says with a little bit of a stutter.

"I'm a whedonite, twihard, and a Tim Burton fan. I like Evanescence, Linkin Park, and Black Ghosts. My favorite TV Show is NCIS and I want to be a forensic specialist someday if I get the chance." I tell her in a slow breath. "If I ever have children I would name them Abigail, Paula, or Anthony slash Emmett." I shrug my shoulders as I sit up straight. "I'm a little weird, wacky, not so much goth like you but not a complete Blue Blood like… say, Mimi Force. No, not even that, more like Bliss Llewellyn." I tell her and she eases up a little.

"We have to stop them."

"Couldn't agree more."

"Together."


End file.
